


I'm Barely There

by greendalecoolcat



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, mostly Jeff-centric, with implied jeff/annie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 17:35:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11719176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greendalecoolcat/pseuds/greendalecoolcat
Summary: Five times Jeff almost left someone a voicemail, and one time he did.





	I'm Barely There

**Author's Note:**

> I needed to write some angst, apologies in advance!

Doreen Winger – December 2008, 3:07pm

He burst through the door of his condo and made his way over to the kitchen sink. He gripped the counter as he attempted to steady his breathing. His entire world was coming to a crashing halt and there was nothing he could do about it. He squeezed his eyes shut and counted to ten, wishing that when he opened them everything would go back to the way it was. But that wouldn’t happen and he had to deal with this. He had to face reality. He had to. He whipped out his phone and ignored the 4 missed calls and 17 texts from Allan Connor.

He found his mother on speed dial and called her. He was breathing heavily and sweating through his suit as he listened to the call go to her voicemail. It was three in the afternoon. She must have been running errands. But god, he needed her.

“Hi, mom. Um, there’s something I have to tell you.” He gulped. “I haven’t been completely honest with you…or with a lot of people. I—I think I should tell you this in person but—” his voice caught. “But I need to talk to someone. Um, I, uh, I really need to talk to _you_ , mom. I just,” he rubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Dammit. I’m sorry,” the words tumbled out of him. He pulled the phone away from his face and stared at the screen. He closed his eyes and sunk to the floor, sitting against the kitchen island.

“ _If you are satisfied with your message, press one. If you would like to delete your message, press two.”_ His thumb hovered over both numbers.

Delete.

\---

Michelle Slater – March 2010, 10:02pm

The first thing he noticed when he walked through his door was her University of Denver alumni sweatshirt hanging over the arm of his couch. He immediately braced himself for the wave of shame waiting to wash over him. It was humiliating and confusing, being completely blindsided as she broke up with him that morning. In the hallways of fucking Greendale. He shook his head in anger, but it was soon replaced with sadness because he honestly had no idea what he did wrong. It was going well. He was actually _trying_. She seemed happy.

He looked at the grey sweatshirt. It was hanging there from the night before. She’d been leaving it there for the past few weeks because she always complained that he kept his apartment way too cold. She unsuccessfully tried convincing him to raise the heat, but he smugly refused. He thought she was kind of cute in the sweatshirt, anyway.

But now looking at the thing made him feel sick. So he whipped out his phone and called her. He imagined her with the guy she was dancing with just a few hours prior. It went straight to voicemail.

“Hey, Michelle. It’s me. Jeff. Just calling to let you know that you left your sweatshirt at my place. Um, you can come pick it up…or I can bring it to you. Whatever’s easier.” There was an awkward silence that he wasn’t sure how to fill, so he cleared his throat and tried to sound light and casual, “I, uh, saw you at the dance tonight. Looked like you were having a good time.” Another pause, but this time he dropped the façade and ran a hand through his hair. “Can I just— Did I do something? I don’t know what I…What did I do wrong? I just…what did I do?” He sighed and pulled the phone away from his face.

“ _If you are satisfied with your message, press one. If you would—”_

Delete.

He grabbed the sweatshirt and went to open his front door. He dropped it near the potted plant across the hall and went back inside.

\---

Britta Perry – February 2011, 11:22pm

He had a draining day. Everything from the student election, public humiliation, and his kind-of-fight with Annie, to their honest and intimate resolution in the supply closet. He returned to his apartment that day feeling uneasy. Sure, he and Annie resolved their whatever-the-hell-it-was, but he came back from that moment with a realization that he honestly and truly _did_ care about what she thought of him. And that scared the hell out of him. And when he got to thinking about it, maybe there were some underlying feelings there…he almost kissed her after all. And it was stupid and impulsive but he was mature enough to realize that there _was_ something there. And it had been there for a while. And it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

And to make his life even more like a basic cable TV sitcom, he had this thing with Britta. Another thing that was impulsive and immature and probably even self-destructive. It would be so easy to break it off. He knew he needed to. He told himself it would be simple because Britta didn’t love him. She was seeing other guys. This arrangement between them wasn’t a relationship. But he knew he couldn’t keep doing it if he had feelings for someone else.

He was confused and frustrated and a little light-headed, but he took out his phone and made the call anyway. She didn’t answer.

“Hey. It’s Jeff. I’ve been thinking…and I think—I think we should stop…doing what we’re doing.” He swallowed hard. “It’s…it’s not you. It’s me.” He laughed lamely at himself. “Cliché, I know. But…you don’t have feelings for me…not like that, anyway.” He paused and closed his eyes. “And I have to stop hurting people.” He thought of everything between him and Annie that day. “I don’t think this compartmentalizing thing, or whatever the fuck I called it, is working anymore. Again, it’s not you…”

He threw his head back until it was resting against the top of his couch. He sighed and contemplated sending the message.

“ _If you are satisfied with your—”_

Delete.

After sitting on his couch in silence for a few quiet minutes, his phone vibrated with a new message. It was from Britta.

**Britta: you called?**

He thought hard about what to say, because he was still so unsure of everything and what he was feeling. But in the end, he said the only thing he knew he was capable of.

**Jeff: come over**

\---

William Winger – October 2012, 9:34pm

After Annie dropped him off, he returned to his apartment and found himself heading straight to his bedroom. He sat on the bed, still in costume. He pulled out the number that was written on the folded piece of white paper tucked into his pocket. He read the numbers for what seemed like hours, which wasn’t too far off because he’s already spent days agonizing over the thing. But he seemed to have made his decision sometime between minutes seven and thirteen, and pulled out his phone.

He wasn’t sure what he expected when he called his estranged father at ten-thirty at night on Halloween. But a part of him was relieved to get his voicemail because no matter how many times he told himself he was ready, he didn’t think he ever would be.

He cleared his throat. “William. This is Jeff. Winger. Your so—” he cleared his throat a second time and restarted. “You’re probably surprised to hear from me. But it’s been twenty years and I think I finally deserve an explanation.” He paused, his heart pounding. “And I’m not calling to forgive you. I don’t want to forgive you. I’m _not_ going to forgive you.” He ground his teeth together, his adrenaline flaring. “I don’t need you. I never needed you.” He couldn’t stop the words from leaving his mouth. “Mom and I were fine. We _are_ fine.” He pulled the phone from his face and clenched his jaw one final time.

“ _If you are satisfied—”_

Delete.

He threw his phone across the bed.

\---

Annie Edison – May 2014, 2:29am

He was sitting on his couch, scotch in hand, thinking about everything that had transpired that night. He almost made the biggest mistake of his life with one of his best friends, while hurting the woman who made him feel enough to power a whole computer. She loved him and he knew it, but he was scared and selfish and he ruined everything. Everything. He knew he would never make it right but he needed to do something. He probably should do it in person but it couldn’t wait. He needed her to know. So he drained the rest of his scotch and whipped out his phone and called her.

“Annie. It’s me. I know it’s late and that you’re sleeping but I need to, um, apologize. And tell you that there’s nothing going on between me and Britta. The engagement, it was stupid. And immature and I’m sorry if... it hurt you. You were right. About everything… Shocker, right?” He attempted to chuckle, but it came out strained. He gulped before he continued. “Uh, the thing you said in the basement. Did you…were you—um.” He shook his head at himself and swallowed hard. “I think I might be in love with you.” He let out a sharp breath. “Yeah. I’m in love with you, but I realize that I’ve ruined that.” His voice was shaking. “And I’m really sorry.” He sniffed in attempt to keep his composure, because in reality he was about to crumble. “Yeah. I’m sorry.” He paused for a long moment before staring at the screen.

“ _If you are sat—”_

Delete.

\---

Abed Nadir – June 2015, 10:47pm

Jeff had just returned from drinks with Britta and everyone after dropping Abed and Annie off from the airport. He looked at the time and knew they were both on their respective flights. For the first time in a while, Jeff felt hopeful. But as sad as he was that his two best friends were leaving, he knew everything was for the best. After all, Abed was destined for LA, and Annie…she would be coming back. In fact, she and Jeff spent the past week figuring out what their relationship meant and what it could be in the future.

They both loved each other. And it was finally said out loud, no more repressed emotions or feelings. No more deleted messages. But during that week, Jeff really confided in Abed because he turned out to be wiser than both of them put together. And Jeff always had an inkling that Abed was secretly routing for _Jeff and Annie: The Post-College Years_.

Dammit, he was going to miss the hell out of him. He gave him another call.

“Hey, buddy. It’s me. I know you’re still on your flight but I’ll leave this for when you land. I know we already said our goodbyes, and I don’t want to seem too ‘out of character’ as you would put it, but I just want to say I’m really proud of you. And that I’m gonna miss you. A lot.” Jeff smiled crookedly even though he was alone. He cleared his throat, “With you and Annie gone, I don’t know who’s going to be my moral compass from now on. I think it’s obvious that Britta’s out of the question.” He chuckled at the thought. “Oh, um. I thought you should know…Annie and I talked. I don’t know how much she’s told you, but. We’re cool. One might even say we’re cool cool cool.” He grinned. “Anyway, I’ll talk to you soon, Abed. Love you, buddy.”

 “ _If you are satisfied with your message, press one. If you would like to delete your message, press two.”_

Send.


End file.
